Written by a very special, male, guest blogger who wishes to remain nameless. Don't try to guess, your efforts are fruitless.
I recently just went through an extremely logical and short breakup discussion with a girl I'd been seeing for about 5 months. We are two career driven, late twenty-year olds, trying to make it in LA. One, myself, an aspiring rocket scientist hoping to pursue a career in the space industry, and her, an aspiring writer, trying to make it in Hollywood. On paper it seems like a dream come true: left and right brain unite for a power couple, yin and yang combine, etc. It was always simple for each of us to brag about the other to our respective work friends.
Her (to Hollywood friends): "I'm dating a rocket scientist!"
Me (to fellow engineers): "I'm dating a girl!"
As any scientist knows, what seems like a great idea in theory, never works (at least for the first few times) in reality. Sacrifices have to be made somewhere, and a professional life can easily hamper ones personal life. To add to the general ridiculousness of this situation, I'm a Canadian citizen trying to get a job in an industry that is a) losing funding at an alarming rate and b) thinks that I am a terrorist since I'm from the tundra up north eh. Most couples generally don't have to deal with the fact that if one person doesn't get a job immediately after graduation, they could get deported back to Canada. But hey, deportation is just a free trip home, right?
On her side, trying to make it in Hollywood can mean taking whatever job comes your way, even if it's in Mississippi, or New York. So for the 5 months we were "dating" we didn't get to hang out very much. We tried to make the best of our limited time together; what else was there to do? However, with my upcoming thesis deadline, and her continuing search for a job, neither one of us were really able to give the relationship the time and energy it deserved, and so we decided to end it. A breakup based on logical and logistical reasons. However, one small thing still nags at me. Was it the parking?
Every time I went to her place, parking was nearly impossible to find. Too much time driving in circles, to then end up walking a mile to her apartment complex. While a seemingly minor thing, this would always negatively affect my mood right before seeing her. Being unhappy right before seeing the person you're supposed to be excited to see must take some toll on the mind at a subconscious level. Was this enough to let logic defeat the love conquers all attitude that I've learned from so many movies? I'll never know, but at least I never got a ticket.